


The Love Corvette

by titC



Series: February 2017 - Month of Twu Wuv! [6]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: "Who the hell is Cupid" Valentine's Fic Exchange, F/M, Gen, Lucifer is clueless, SUCH FLUFF, arts and crafts, cool car, dork alert, humour (hopefully), team fam FTW, uncool devil, very feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: For the "Who the hell is Cupid" Valentine's Fic Exchange.From moonatom's prompt: "car decorations."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonatoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonatoms/gifts).



> BecomeMyObsession was attacked by life and work and finally a dead computer and I'm filling in for her.  
> I really hope you'll like this, even if it's quite a bit silly and angst-free!

The Detective had looked a bit strange when he’d left the precinct, like she knew something he didn’t. Well, there wasn’t time to dwell on it right now – he was off to Dr Martin’s, then to Lux. He still had a club to run, after all; and since tonight she and the douche were taking the spawn out for some ‘family bonding time’ (whatever that meant) he could take care of things like the perfectly responsible devil he was.

His Corvette was waiting for him in the station car park, gleaming and polished and perfect as usual. He loved that car, he really did. He ran a fond hand over the bonnet before opening the door and – what was that? He picked up the little object in the driver’s seat and narrowed his eyes at it. It looked like… well, it looked like a toy car – his car! – and the driver’s hair was painted black with, hah, red eyes and two red horns and a lopsided smile etched into the clay. There was also a passenger, with long blond hair and big blue eyes. And it was clearly handmade, too. He turned it in his hands, wondering what it meant. Was it some sort of message from his father? Was Amenadiel trying to mess with him? Or Maze, maybe? Was it a warning? Was the douche trying to tell him he knew he was the devil, that he’d smash his car to smithereens if he hurt Chloe, perhaps?

He finally found the inscription under the car. “To Lucifer, from Trixie!” He felt his eyebrows rise up on his forehead. The offspring? He’d picked her up from school a few times in this very car and he knew she bragged about it to her friends because, well, it was the epitome of a cool car indeed; so he assumed she liked the Corvette; but… why the horns and red eyes? She didn’t know about that; at least officially. (He had his doubts. The child was devious and clever, things he approved of as a matter of course.) Why have what was, presumably, a representation of her mother and not herself next to him?

He gingerly placed it on the passenger seat as he slid behind the wheel. He’d have to ask Dr Martin.

 

She laughed at him. The gall of that woman, really! He sometimes thought her terror at his real nature should have lasted longer. Well, maybe not the terror, because… let’s not dwell on that too much; but some proper awe at least? A bit of respect? He tried to be the bigger man and waited for her to stop snickering with only a little sigh and an eye-roll. Maybe some pointed looks through the window too. When she was finally done, she put the little clay toy back on the table between them.

“Well, I think it’s cute, Lucifer.”

“Cute?”

“Cute. She’s probably telling you she’s happy of your relationship with her mother. And you keep saying you’re the devil; why are you surprised she added horns?” She glanced down at the car and her lips curved up again.

“But… what am I supposed to do?”

“Do you know what day it is? The date, I mean?”

“Er, February, 12th?”

“And…?” She looked expectantly at him.

“And… it’s not her birthday? It’s… not Christmas? I don’t know, Doctor!”

She sighed. “Valentine’s day is on the 14th. What have you planned?”

“Planned?” He didn’t understand. “For Lux, you mean? Well, there’ll be special themed decorations and bowls of free condoms and lube packets everywhere and – ”

“No. For Chloe.”

For Chloe? “But… we’re already, um. Oh! She’s told you something, hasn’t she? She’s not happy with me, is that it? I knew it, that thing here’s a warning! She wants out, right? What did I do wrong? What did she say? Come on, Doctor, you know something! Is it because I gave the spawn chocolate cake for dinner last week? Is that it? She really wanted it and I am the devil, yes? I’m not supposed to say no to these things! Or, or maybe it’s because of that time I threw out all of the Detective’s bedclothes? I got her much better ones, but she really was angry at me because – well, I don’t know, but she made me go buy more of those plain while cotton ones she inexplicably likes, and… that’s it, right?” He didn’t understand her at times, he didn’t understand those (thankfully infrequent) times he tried to make her happy and it ended up in a disaster; but they did happen. Maybe it had happened once too often, and that was it. So, it was over; unless he made amends, perhaps? But _how_?

“I think you’re overreacting, Lucifer.”

“No! No, I’m not! What do I have to do? What does she need, what does she want? You must know!” They were friends, after all. What did he have to fix? Ah, yes! He should call Maze, she’d tell him. Probably kick his arse first, but she’d tell him still. He stood up, intent on his goal, but the Doctor’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Lucifer, don’t forget Trixie’s gift.”

Right. He turned around, grabbed the warning, and ran out. He thought he heard muffled laughter behind him, but he ignored it. He had to fix what he’d broken, somehow.

 

The Internet was no help.

He’d tried to look up what you were supposed to do for your beloved, your lover, your partner, your better half, the apple of your eyes – for _The Detective_ , because that was who she was and always would be to him – after doing some paperwork for Lux and before the evening would start in earnest and he’d have to go down and entertain. He’d play a few songs, encourage the guests to get bolder, to dance a little closer to each other, to drink a bit more; watch them be naughty and sexy and simply not the Detective. He really didn’t feel any urge to have sex with them nowadays; after those terrible interviews where the people he’d slept with had said they hadn’t cared at all about him he’d frankly lost the taste. They’d used him, and he hadn’t even been aware of it. He’d thought they’d actually liked him, even if just for a few hours – how naive of him. But… maybe that was it? Maybe Chloe believed he still wanted to, maybe she believed he missed it? Or even that he still did it?

He didn’t think the flowers and sweets the sites recommended would be enough; and she’d probably throw lacy underwear at his head if he tried that. What could he do? Should he book a vacation somewhere? But then she’d fret about her daughter; they’d either have to take her with them, or find someone to keep her… ah, and he’d have to pay attention to her school schedule, too. But would it cut it? Maybe she wouldn’t like going on holiday with him after all? They’d never spent more than a weekend together, after all. Maybe an entire week would be too long? Maybe she’d get tired of him even faster? After all, great sex wasn’t enough to keep people around; the bitter realization had made that crystal clear. What was he to do to win her back?

He shut his laptop down with a sigh, but no answer in sight. It was time to go down to Lux, anyway.

 

The next morning, he found a pink knitted cover on the Corvette steering wheel. He blinked at it for a little while, then decided he was man enough to drive to the precinct with it. Maybe he could ask Ms Lopez to check it for prints or whatever identifying clues she could find? He would be able to rip it off afterwards, but not before he at least tried to get answers. He extracted leather driving gloves (black, of course) from the glove compartment because he knew enough not to smear his own cells all over it, and off he went to join the Detective.

She, of course, found the wheel cover hilarious; and Ms Lopez aaaw-ed and said he really should keep it, even after she studied it. He left her to it as he and Chloe went to interview a suspect in her car, but when they came back to the precinct he almost thought he’d have a heart attack. He first wondered what kind of bird had managed to soil the paint in that weird pattern, but when he got closer he found they were stickers, spread all over the bonnet. Heart-shaped, pink and red stickers.

“Lucifer, you coming?” Oh, no. No, she couldn’t see them! She’d think – what would she think? That he was cheating on her, surely. That someone was trying to sleep with him, at the very least! He turned and there she was, walking to him. Should he, should he what? Sit on the hood? Thrown his jacket over them? He had to hide the heinous things, but anything he came up with would have her cop senses tingling. “What are you – aw, Lucifer, that’s cute!”

He blinked at her. “Cute? _Cute_?” Certainly not. “It is vandalizing, Detective! My car is defaced, and I refuse to be seen driving – ”

“I like it.”

She liked it? Oh. “Oh.” He felt stupid, standing here with his arms hanging by his sides while she was looking up at him with laughter in her beautiful eyes. “Well then. I. Um.”

“Leave them on for a little while? I like them.”

“All… all right.” What else could he say? She liked them. They made her smile. What were a few pink stickers in the face of that?

 

Still, while she was working on some paperwork at her desk he slipped into Ms Lopez’s lab.

She was hopping around to the music in her ears, and he waited for her to spot him. He didn’t want to disturb her work, after all: he had a vested interest in it. “Oh, hey! Here about the knitted mystery?”

“Well, yes. Except there are now pink heart stickers over my car, too. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?” Maybe… maybe it was her? But why?

“Your car was sticker-free when I went down to have a look at the wheel cover, I promise. I can try and dust them for print, but if it’s the same perpetrator then they’ve been careful and won’t have left any trace.”

“Do you mean you couldn’t find anything?”

“Nope, nothing.” He’d had such high hopes, too. “But regarding the Morinho case, I did get interesting results.”

He’d clearly get no answer from forensic science, then. Fine, he’d focus on their case right now; but he still needed answers. And a way to convince the Detective to stay with him. Maybe he could ask the douche for some advice on what not to do, at least?

 

When the evening came, they’d solved the Morinho case, he still had no idea about the sudden interest of a mysterious vandal in his car, and even less about what to do regarding the Detective. And of course, as the final touch to the day, he found a little Cupid complete with bow and arrow hanging from his rear-view mirror. Its wings were, of course, pink. He was still glaring at it with his best lord-of-hell glower when he felt an arm snake around his waist.

“What are you angry at?”

Damage control! He had to do damage control. “I swear, it’s not what you think!”

She frowned."It’s not?”

“No. You have my word; you know I wouldn’t lie to you, yes?”

“But what do you think I’m thinking, then?”

“Well, it’s obvious; but it’s a set-up – I promise you, I’m not cheating on you or sleeping with anyone else or even thinking about it! I’m being framed! I – I know I’m not, and you deserve, but, I wouldn’t! Never!” It was like too many words were piling up in his throat, in his mouth and they couldn’t get out. He stayed there, silent, almost panting, his jaw probably hanging half-open because he could never manage to be Lucifer Morningstar with her. He could never give her his very best, smoothest self; and – oh. Was that it? Yes, yes – it was! Of course it was. She wanted to get rid of him, because he wasn’t what she’d expected and wanted when she’d signed up for the Morningstar Experience. She didn’t want to deal with him any longer, and she’d perhaps assumed that letting him believe someone else was interested in him would be enough to get out of their, of their, of their _thing_? “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I understand; I, I’ll just go.”

He reached out to open the car door but she jerked him around by his elbow. “Lucifer, what are you on about? What is going on in your head?” He looked away from her face; he couldn’t – he just couldn’t. “Talk to me. We promised each other we’d talk, remember?”

“You, you want out, yes?” He thought he heard a groan from somewhere behind him, then a thump. Huh. Probably a suspect being manhandled out of a police van. Would she still work with him? Was this his last day at the station, his last day stealing the douche’s pudding and playing darts with Ms Lopez’s scalpels?

“How did you go from heart stickers to my dumping you?” He opened his mouth. "No, don’t say anything. We all teamed up to surprise you, not… this.” Light, warm, strong and careful – her fingers came up to his face, his cheek. “I’m not leaving you; I love you.”

“But…”

“But what?”

“You don’t believe I’m seeing other people? You don’t want to get rid of, of…?”

She squeezed his neck a little. “Don’t you trust me?”

“But I gave your offspring chocolate cake last week and I wasn’t supposed to; and you were angry when I got you silk sheets; and you’ve seen, and I’m not…” Finally, he managed to look at her. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t…” He waved a hand then, gingerly, let it curl around her waist. She smiled at him encouragingly, and he felt like a fool – again. Such a fool. But he settled both palms on her, a bit more confident.

“You need to trust me – trust us, rather. Can you do that?” He closed his eyes. Could he? He wanted to, he really did. He nodded, and felt her gently bring his head down, felt her lips on his. His palms slid just a bit lower, right where her hips started, flaring out slightly and filling his hands just right, just enough, just perfect.

“Det – Chloe…”

Her lips curled up under his, and he loved her and he breathed her and suddenly there were catcalls and flashes of a bright white light and even… clapping? And a little cannonball running into them. He reluctantly detached himself from Chloe and picked up the child before she tore his jacket from her insistent tugging. Her mother’s eyes were all soft on them, and it was like standing on top of the world. Flying over it, even, lighting the skies as everything was still brand new.

“Happy Valentine’s day!” He wished he could be as invincible as he felt when he was near the Detective, because the spawn must have ruptured his eardrum.

“I know we’re only the 13th, but since I got the next few days off for both of us as a little gift…”

“The next few days…?” He let the child slide down when she squirmed.

“Everyone helped; Maze got your suitcase ready and in the trunk, Linda found us a nice quiet hotel, Dan is keeping Trixie… And we’ve even decorated your car!”

“It’s like the Love Corvette!” Ms Lopez said. The douche was smirking at him from behind her.

“The… Love Corvette.”

“Yes! And I’m lending you my camera so you can take plenty of pictures, and we’ll make an album of your little holiday when you come back.” She handed it to him, and he saw there were already pictures of his car, and… he didn’t blush, of course, when he saw Chloe and him kissing. Did he always look so, so… soft, with her? Even when carrying the spawn. He’d never known.

“I hope you enjoyed the upgrades we made.” Amenadiel had a definitely wicked smile. _Fallen_ angel indeed, brother mine.

“Did you like my gift, Lucifer? I made it with mom.”

He looked down. “It’s… very lifelike.” She grinned, apparently happy with his answer.

“It was a fun evening we had, right, monkey?” Chloe ruffled her hair, then looked up at him. “I put it in your car in the afternoon yesterday, Amenadiel knitted the wheel cover and Maze put it on last night, Ella added the stickers, and Dan the little Cupid.”

“You – wait.” He looked at his brother. “You _knit_?” Oh, he was never letting him live it down.

“I have plenty of time to learn new skills these days,” he mumbled. Oh, that was good. That was _gold_. Dr Martin certainly agreed, given the way she was trying and failing to stifle her guffaws. But…

“Chloe,” he whispered. “I don’t have anything for you.”

“Well. I guess you can let me drive your car, and keep the decorations for at least a month.” Oh. Oh no. No way. “Pretty please?” Fine. “And I just… I wanted to give you something, and this Valentine’s thing is really just a pretext. But next year, it’s your turn.” She grinned at him and he forgot everything else that wasn’t her.

She’d said _next year_ , and nothing else mattered.


End file.
